Trapped
by Mysterytay
Summary: Squidward and Sandy are locked inside of the Krusty Krab. (Follows "Odd Couple" 1 and 2.)


**A/N: What, another SpongeBob fic? Yes! Even after I actually wrote for another fandom, I have returned. This will reference my other fics, Odd Couple 1 and 2, so you might want to read those first.**

Trapped

"Here's your garbage sir," Squidward handed a tray of fast-food to an impatient looking customer. It was the lunch-rush at the Krusty Krab.

"It's about time!" The customer grabbed his food and walked away. SpongeBob peeked his head out the little window with his hand cupped over his mouth.

"Psst... Squidward, I think you mean Krabby Patty."

"No, I don't," Squidward replied flatly. The sponge gasped, and wagged his finger.

"Squidward, shame on you." Before the cephalopod could reply, another customer approached the register boat.

"I'll have a..."

"I'm on my lunch break," Squidward interrupted, pulling out a brown, paper bag.

"Aw, c'mon man. I'm the last one in line."

"Come back when I care. You might be waiting a while."

"Fine, I'll eat at the Chum Bucket, Big Nose!" the customer angrily stormed out of the restaurant.

"'Big Nose?' Good one. How long did it take ya to come up with that one?," Squidward shouted at him, rhetorically.

...

At closing time, SpongeBob tearfully dragged himself to the front doors. "Time to go already. See ya tomorrow, Squid." He then bursts into tears, and heads out.

"Time to ditch this prison of grease," Squidward said once the sponge left. He hopped over the ledge of the counter, and started for the doors. A red claw to the face halted him in his tracks.

"Not so fast, Mr. Squidward," Mr. Krabs ordered. Squidward rubbed his sore face. "I saw you turn away good money, earlier. Now you get to stay and close up. Swab the decks." He handed him a mop. Squidward resentfully snatched it, clenching his teeth, trying not to snap at his boss. He couldn't afford to have his pay docked again, so he swallowed his pride, and complied.

"Aye, aye, sir," he spat bitterly. Mr. Krabs went home, and the octopus mopped furiously, grumbling while he worked. "Good for nothing cheap skate. It was just one customer." It was getting dark out and he sped up, just doing quick once overs. He cleaned the mens' room half-way, then made his way to the womens'. He dunked the mop in the bucket. He was about to start, when he noticed two feet sticking out from under the door to one of the stalls.

"Hello?" He called out.

"Occupado," a southern drawl answered.

"Sandy? Y'know we're closed."

"Gimmie a minute. What're ya'll doin' in the ladies' room anyway?"

"I... Just hurry up," Squidward sighed, annoyed, and exited the rest-room. He impatiently waited outside the door. They had pretended to be boyfriend and girlfriend twice, to get out of bad situations. Both ended in disaster, and they only managed to fool Squilliam. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, he heard a flush. The Texan squirrel came out after she washed her hands.

"Sorry about that," She apologized. "I didn't realize ya'll were closin'. Musta been that Krabby Patty."

"I'm glad I don't eat here," Squidward stated.

"Well, I best be on my way," Sandy made her way to the double doors, and pushed. They didn't budge. She tried pulling. They still didn't move. She pulled with all her might, grunting and sweating, to no avail. She gave up and spun around to the lanky octopus. "Squidward, I think we're locked in."

"What?" Squidward asked, alarmed. He dropped his mop, and bolted to the doors. He frantically pushed and pulled, as Sandy had done.

"Y'don't think I tried that?" Sandy asked.

"Mr. Krabs must've took the keys. No, no. This can't be happening!" Squidward ran to the back door in the kitchen, but found that one locked as well. He came back to Sandy, panting. "What're we gonna do?"

"I guess we'll have to wait 'til someone comes in the mornin'." She sat down at one of the tables.

"I can't spend all night in this dump," the octopus let out a groan of frustration. He sank to the floor with his tentacles covering his face.

"Look, it'll be fine," Sandy tried comforting. "First thing tomorrow, we'll be outta here. Just suck it up."

"Suck it up?" Squidward questioned, standing up. "Suck it up? I've been sucking it up my whole life! Every day I'm still not famous, I suck it up. Every day when I come to this dead-end job, I suck it up. I had to close up tonight, beacuse my cheap boss couldn't suck it up when he lost one measley customer. Just one customer all day, and I sucked that up as well. I had to suck it up, and pretend to be your boyfriend to get my clarinet back. So don't tell me to suck it up, missy!"

"Well, well, don't we have issues?" Sandy retorted. "And you came crawlin' to me first with that idea."

"Yeah, and you agreed. I didn't have to threaten your property like you did."

Sandy let out a sigh. "Look, lets not shout at each other, 'til the cows come home. Got any ideas ta make the time go by?" Squidward thought for a minute, then a light bulb flashed over his head.

"My f-Pod!"(1) He dashed over to the register, where he left it. "I'll think I'll treat myself to a little Michael Crawfish."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Sandy demanded.

"Sorry, I ain't got no square dancin' music," he mocked her accent. The cephalopod sat at the register, and put his feet up. Sandy rolled her eyes. He had the ear buds in, and he sighed in content as the music began to play. It stopped after a few seconds. "What the..." He looks at the device, and the screen told him the battery was dead. "Figures! Why me, every eleven minutes?" He trudged back over to Sandy, and sat across from her at the table. He dropped his head in his tentacles.

"Anymore ideas, lover boy?" Sandy refered to their fake dates.

"I'll just stare off into space, as the despair eats away at my shrinking soul," he sighed miserably.

"Wow, that's deep."

"Thanks."

"Wanna talk?" The squirrel suggested, after sitting in silence a while made her feel a little uncomfortable. By now it was completely dark outside. The lights overhead flickered.

"Sure, let's talk about our feelings and have a pillow fight," sarcasm leaked from the octopus. Sandy groaned.

"I don't know what your deal is...That's it I'm bustin' outta here." Sandy grabs the barrel she was sitting on, and lifts it over her head.

"No, wait!" Squidward stands up, but it's too late. Sandy hurled the wooden container into the glass, but it bounced back, hit Squidward and pinned him to the floor. "Shatter proof glass," he grunted from beneath the barrel.

"Why didn't ya say so?" Sandy asked, removing the barrel off of the octopus. She pealed him off of the floor, his suction cups popping. He dusted himself off, and walked over to the wall. Sandy stared at the pathetic sea critter. Curiosity got the better of her. "If ya hate it here so much, why do ya stay?"

"I can assure you, it's not by choice." Squidward replied. He slid down the wall, untill he was sitting on the floor. "I didn't plan on sticking around here this long. My clarinet career just hasn't kicked off yet. I'll probably be trapped here forever." Sandy came over and sat next to him.

"Maybe it's time for a career change?" She suggested. "Anythin' else yer good at?"

"I'm good at everything I try," Squidward boasted. Sandy held back a derisive snort. "Art and music are my passions, I can't just give them up. You'll see. Someday, someone will recognize my talent, and I'll be outta this town of bottom-feeders."

"Yeah, but this plan ya got goin' ain't workin' out. Ya can't work here for the rest of yer life. Ya gotta have some sorta back-up plan."

"That cliff in Jellyfish Fields seems like a good one," Squidward morbidly stated. Sandy was taken aback.

"Ya can't seriously be thinkin' like that? I mean, I knew ya'll were depressin', but this?"

"Oh, calm down. I'm exaggerating. Why would you even care?"

"Well, I'd be concerned if anyone started talkin'... like that." She answered. "All life has purpose, even yer pathetic, meaningless one."

"That makes me feel sooo much better," Squidward stated, sarcastically. "Thanks for your philosophy. Did you get that out of a dollar store novel?"

"A nice person would maybe, say thanks."

"What barnacle head told you I was nice?"

"Maybe if ya'll were a little nicer to some folks, yer karma would reverse," Sandy advised. Squidward looked quizzically at her.

"By 'some people,' do you mean SpongeBob?" He asked.

"I mean people in general, but SpongeBob would be a good start. Ya'll are neighbors after all."

"Maybe if he wasn't an annoying little twit..."

"Sure he's a little annoying; a lot annoying, but he means well. He sees the good in everyone, including you."

"He's delusional," Squidward merely stated. "You can't defend him; I know he causes trouble for you too."

"Yeah he does, a lot," the squirrel couldn't help but agree. "But he's like a kid, ya gotta tell him not ta do certain things."

"Then he'll do it anyway," the cephalopod retorted. "There's no reasoning with that idiot. No matter how many times I tell him to leave me alone, he just doesn't get it." Sandy playfully shoved his shoulder.

"Oh, c'mon. Ya don't wanna admit it, but you care about that little guy."

"No I don't," he protested. He tossed his arms up for emphasis. "Why would I care about that yellow imbecile who, along with that pink buffoon, make my life miserable on a daily basis?" He crossed his arms.

"What about Christmas that one year?" Sandy looked smug. "You didn't like seein' him sadder'n a clown." It took a while for Squidward to reply.

"Pfft, you thought I cared? I was just...working on my acting skills. I was playing a character."

"Sure you where." It was Sandy's turn to be sarcastic. They sat in silence for a few minutes. The clock literally ticked them by. Sandy's stomach growled. She stood up. "I'm gonna make myself a Krabby Patty, you want one?"

"I don't eat that junk," he replied. His stomach also growled, and Sandy heard it. "Fine." The Squirrel headed to the kitchen. She was something else. Who did she think she was, some philosopher lecturing him about karma, and the fragility of life? Surely no great philosopher would be covered in fur. At least she carried some intelligence. She was no where near his level of sophistication, but she was somewhat interesting. He remembered their fake dates. What were they thinking? They seemed like good ideas at the time, but now they seemed like a waste of energy. Like they could actually be believable as a couple. They had nothing in common. Sandy returned with the patties.

"Here ya go," she said, handing him his. She sat back on her spot on the floor, unzipped her suit, and ate the patty in three bites. Squidward slowly ate his, not about to admit he actually liked Krabby Patties. Sandy looked at the clock. "We still got about six hours to go." They both sighed in boredom, and irritation. "Ya here anythin' from that yuppie?"

"Oh, you mean Squilliam," he said after a moment of confusion. "Not yet, though I'm sure he won't miss a chance to humiliate me again."

"You shouldn't let him get to you."

"Oh, great. More of your brilliant advice." He stared out the window.

"I'm just tryin' ta help." Another few moments of silence.

"Can you really believe we thought we could be convincing as a couple?" The cephalopod said after a while.

"Yeah," Sandy chuckled. "Now that I think about it, it does sound pretty silly."

"We are nothing alike."

"We have nothing in common." She scooted closer to him. "Maybe we could find some things we do have in common?"

"Um, okay," Squidward reluctantly agreed.

"SpongeBob irritates us both," the squirrel suggested.

"SpongeBob irritates everybody," he pointed out.

"True... We both have tempers."

"So we'd make a good couple on a soap opera." Sandy laughed at his statement.

"What would we call it? 'Heated Arguments and Passions?'"

"Cheesy," said Squidward, approvingly. "Or how about, 'Land and Sea: The Forbidden Love Affair?'" They burst out laughing.

"That's so corny!" Sandy snorted. They laughed so hard, they held their stomachs, and their faces turned red. "Well, we can come up with terrible soap opera titles," Sandy said after she caught her breath. "See, yer not as stiff as you make yerself out to be."

"Whatever," Squidward rolled his eyes, and shifted his position.

"Just lighten up a little like you are with me, and maybe things'll start lookin' up for ya'll."

"That's much harder than it sounds. You try being happy when the whole world is against you."

"Now that's exaggeratin'," Sandy pointed out. "See, there's yer problem. Stop bein' so cynical. Y'know there are scientific studies on the power of positive thinking."

"I think you've been spending too much time around SpongeBob," Squidward returned. Sandy let out an exhausted groan.

"I'm so glad yer not my boyfriend."

"And I'm so glad you're not my girlfriend."

"If you were my beau, I'd be so frustrated with you. You'd be a trophy on my wall," Sandy, joked.

"If you were my girl, you'd have a little more class," Squidward retorted. They were both standing up now, in each others' faces.

"Snob."

"Hick."

"Big Nose."

"That's not even clever," Squidward stated in annoyance. "Besides, ya know what they say about guys with big noses..." He crossed his arms, and winked suggestively. Sandy snorted when she laughed, and playfully pushed him away. He nearly lost his balance, but managed to stay on his feet.

"I didn't know you even had a sense of humor aside from yer usual dry one," she said, almost shocked.

"You underestimate me."

"I guess yer not the worst person to be stuck with," said Sandy.

"Thanks a lot," more sarcasm from Squidward.

"No, I really mean it. It's interestin' gettin' to know ya'll."

"Uh, yeah," was all he could say. They stood in awkward silence. It was pretty late, and their yawns confirmed it.

"Maybe we should try hittin' the hay," Sandy suggested, stretching.

"Sure. 'Night," Squidward headed over to the register. He hopped in the boat, trying to get comfortable. He finally found a comfortable position when Sandy climbed in. "What're you doing?"

"Did ya think I was gonna sleep on this dirty floor? Ya'll need ta get yerselves someone who can mop." She turned of the light switch, and made herself comfortable, a good distance from the cephalopod. He just grumbled, and turned his back to her. The memory of them falling asleep on her love seat creeped into his mind, and he couldn't stop his face from heating up. He didn't know why his stomach felt fuzzy, and his heartbeat increased. Maybe he caught some disease from the mammal. The familiar sound of Sandy's snoring caused him to choke back laughter. He had forgotten about that. She really was something else. It took him a while, but he finally drifted off to sleep.

...

They were startled awake by the sound of Mr. Krabs angry, yet surprised voice.

"Mr. Squidward, why are you defilin' me restaurant. You two should be ashamed." Squidward nearly had a heart attack at the rude awakening.

"No, no. It's not like that. We... We..." the octopus stuttered. Sandy angrily hopped out of the boat.

"You locked us in," she shouted at the crustacean, pointing a finger at him. "We had ta spend all night in here!"

"Yeah!" Squidward added.

"Well, duh," said Mr. Krabs. They looked confused. "I locked Squidward in here on purpose to teach him a lesson. I had no idea you were in here."

"What!?" Squidward shouted.

"That'll teach ya not to throw out payin' customers!" Squidward and Sandy were steaming with rage, literally.

"You crustaceous cheap skate!" Squidward yelled. "You made me waste my whole night in this dump! I could've been playing my clarinet."

"I can't believe ya'll would do a thing like that," Sandy added.

"Don't be surprised," said Squidward. They closed in on the crab, their faces contorted in rage.

"Now, now," he said backing away in fear, holding his claws up. He began to sweat. "I taught you a valuble lesson... A-at least you weren't alone." Mr. Krabs bolted out of the Krusty Krab, and the chase was on. He ran passed a cheerful looking SpongeBob, on his way to work. The octopus and the squirrel followed. SpongeBob looked confused.

"What'd I miss?" He wondered, scratching his head.

**A/N: (1: fish-Pod? I don't know how to parody i-pod)**

**Sorry if this one bored you. I wrote a more dialogue than I originally intended. I don't know where I'll go from here. Can you guess who Michael Crawfish is a parody of? He's one of my favorite singers. I actually think it's too obvious, but I lack some creativity. Review, please.**


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